Lover's Leap
by Ruthless Bunny
Summary: Trent and Daria are collaborating on a project, what will come of it? A Quantum Leap Crossover, during the time of Jane's Addition


Theorizing that one could time travel within his own lifetime, Dr

Disclaimer: I don't have any affiliation, or permission or anything like that with Daria or Quantum leap. I probably shouldn't be writing this stuff, but I don't have a choice, it's an obsession. Blame me, but please don't sue me. Thanks. 

Note: These events take place during Jane's Addition. 

****

LOVER'S LEAP

BY

RUTHLESS BUNNY 

__

Theorizing that one could time travel within his own lifetime, Dr. Sam Beckett stepped into the Quantum Leap accelerator and vanished .... He woke to find himself trapped in the past, facing mirror images that were not his own and driven by an unknown force to change history for the better. His only guide on this journey is Al, an observer from his own time, who appears in the form of a hologram that only Sam can see and hear. And so Dr. Beckett finds himself leaping from life to life, striving to put right what once went wrong and hoping each time that his next leap will be the leap home

Sam realized that he had leaped again. He looked around taking in the familiar scene of a bar. For some reason, his leaps took him into a lot of bars. He smelled the stale beer, and heard the band. He looked up at the four skinny guys, howling like dogs. "Hey Mr. Normal, it was YOU!" The band sang as they pointed directly at him. "Oh, boy," he said to himself.

"So what about it Daria?" Sam looked to his right and saw a tall, slender brunette, very pretty and she seemed to be addressing him.

"What?" He screamed at her over the noise of the band.

"For the project. Maybe you could work with Trent on the song. He can do the music, you can do the words."

He listened to what the band was singing. "Uh, yeah, good point." He responded. He searched the room, looking for a reflective surface. Cigarette smoke and the din intensified the disorientation he felt after he leapt. Glancing around, he saw a mirror over the bar. He stared back at the girl in the mirror. Full bushy hair, round glasses, and a green jacket. She seemed to be around seventeen, and pretty in a subtle way. He looked around again, waiting for Al. Al usually showed up a few minutes after a leap. Sam couldn't think of anything else to say. He noticed the girl looking at a young man across the room. He seemed to be interested. 

"Hey, that guy is looking at me." She said, slightly distracted as she continued to look his way.

Sam saw his chance. "You don't seem to mind much. Tell you what, I'll go to the bathroom, that way he can come over." The girl nodded as he left to find the facilities. As he walked away he noticed that the young man took advantage of the opportunity by walking up to Daria's friend.

Sam found the bathroom. It was empty, and the sound of the band was muffled somewhat. He stood at the mirror, looking at the image peering back at him. As he expected Al joined him. "So who am I and what am I doing here."

Al adjusted his tie. As usual he was wearing a flamboyant ensemble. "Do you think that this tie is too much? Ziggy said that I looked like a bouquet." He smoothed the tie across the multi-chromatic shirt. 

"Come on Al, you always look like a bouquet. Help me out here." He looked down at his bare legs sticking out of the combat boots. "These things weigh a ton."

"No wonder she's got such well developed legs." Al said as he took a gander at Daria's gams.

"Cut it out. She can't be more than seventeen." Sam replied, trying to direct Al's attention to the work at hand.

Al consulted his hand held computer. "Okay, why are you here?" He hit the device a couple of times, and it let out a squawk in protest. "Let's see, oh, you're Daria Morgendorffer, aged seventeen." Al nodded in acknowledgement of Sam's correct guess of her age. "You attend Lawndale high school, and your best friend is Jane Lane. Her brother, Trent is the singer in the band." 

"Fine, so I know who I am, now why am I here?" Sam waited. This part was always kind of fuzzy. Sometimes they knew what they needed to do; sometimes they were guessing right up until Sam kicked the gun out of the prom queen's hand. 

Al looked at the display, "Well, Ziggy's not sure, but there's a 57% chance that you're here to help Trent get a record deal."

Sam/Daria looked dismayed. "Al, come on. Have you _HEARD_ those guys?"

Al cocked his head, as the muted strains of 'From the Futon' reached his ears. "Okay, you've got a point. At least you know that they _NEED_ help. That's a place to start." 

Sam sighed. "I'm going back out there. You keep trying to fine-tune that. Maybe I need to encourage Trent to get a day job?"

"Nope, definitely something with music. Come on Sam, we've had bigger challenges." Al shooed him out of the ladies room just as a group of goth chicks came in.

Sam went up to Jane who was still with the young man. "Oh Daria, this is…." She trailed off.

"Tom, nice to meet you." He extended his hand politely.

"Hi, nice to meet you." Sam replied.

"We're going to get some food. Will you talk to Trent about the project between sets?" Jane was already walking toward the door with Tom. "I'll be back for the second set."

"Sure." He said, vaguely concerned that Jane was going for a ride with a guy she didn't know. 

Trent leaned into the microphone. "We're Mystik Spiral, we're thinking of changing our name. We'll be back for our second set." 

"This has been our first set." The guitarist said as an informational aside.

"Uh, yeah." Trent walked off the stage shaking his head. Two of the band members preceded him, arguing about the drums. They seemed to be sharing a brain. Trent approached Sam/Daria. "Hey Daria, Janey said you needed help with some project. Something about music."

Sam had to think fast. He had no idea what the project entailed. Jane had said something about Trent doing the music, and her doing the words. "Yes. We need you to compose something."

"I can do that. Maybe we can talk about it tomorrow? By the way, where's Janey?" Trent craned around the room, looking for his sister.

"She left to get food with some guy. She'll be back later." Sam replied. "You know what, I think I'll head home. You don't mind if I don't stay for the second set do you?"

"Naw. The second set is just the stuff that's not good enough for the first set. I wouldn't stay myself if I weren't in the band. Want a ride home?"

"Sure." Sam was a little wary, if he wasn't mistaken, Trent had a bit of a thing for Daria, and he didn't know what she thought about him. He figured he'd just be neutral. He didn't really want to kiss Trent.

Sam sat close to the door of the Plymouth as Trent drove to Daria's house. He didn't say anything as they drove through a non-descript suburb typical of the late nineties. "So who's this guy Janey went to get food with, someone from school?"

Sam thought about it. Jane had to introduce Tom to Daria, so chances were they didn't know him from school. "No. Just some guy she met."

"Oh." Trent said.

Sam's protective instincts kicked in. "Aren't you concerned that she just drove off with some strange guy?"

"No, Janey can take care of herself. Daria, you have got to relax, everything works out." Trent started to beat time on the steering wheel to a tune he was humming. 

"If you say so Trent." They pulled up to a large, brick house. 

"Hey, I'll see you tomorrow then. I've got to get back, I don't want Max and Nicholas to kill each other while I'm gone." 

Sam thought about the two musicians and their moronic conversation. "Yeah, you wouldn't want to miss that."

Trent laughed. "Heh, good one Daria. I'll see you tomorrow." He drove off in a cloud of blue smoke. 

Sam went into the house. Everyone had apparently gone to bed. He headed upstairs; he looked into the first bedroom. It was hung with padding, and a few posters. There were also models of brains, some books and a computer. He decided to move on, the next bedroom featured a canopy bed, stuffed animals and three mirrors. That was definitely NOT Daria's room. The third door was closed, but Sam could hear a conversation faintly behind the door. "No Eric, I can't come in right now. It can wait until morning. They can't do anything about starting the clean up until daybreak anyway." Sam tiptoed back down the hall. The padded room was it.

He went in and closed the door. First of all, what was this project? He started going through the papers and notebooks on the desk. He picked up Daria's physics homework. He noted that she had a good grasp of the subject. Her latest homework not only had the answers correct, but her extra credit essay exploring chaos theory was extremely well conceived and written. He scanned her trig homework, again, well done, although she had missed one of the questions, probably due to a number transposition. Language Arts. Aha, here it was a multi-media project. Words, pictures and sound. That must be it. Trent would be providing the sound, that is, the music. Daria had thoughtfully started to write some notes on their theme. Apparently it was the trauma cycle of a high school student. It was clever, sarcastic and irreverent. It would need music to keep it lighthearted otherwise it would come off strident. 

Sam was tired so he climbed out of the boots and clothes to get ready for bed. Noticing that although Daria's schoolwork was neat and well organized, her room wasn't, he left the clothes on the floor. He found a nightshirt under the pillow and lay down to sleep. 

The next day, Sam was the first one up in the house. He went into the bathroom. This part was always really weird for him. He tried not to look at the body he inhabited as he showered. There were all sorts of subtle things he had to do. Which toothbrush to use? Which towel was his? Did they go around in robes, or dress in the bathroom? Luckily he found a new toothbrush under the sink, and a fresh towel in the linen closet. He decided to bring an outfit into the bathroom with him. He looked in Daria's closet. She must not care much about her appearance since there weren't all that many outfits in there. He decided on jeans and a sweater, since it was still cool outside. 

It was still early, so Sam decided to familiarize himself with Daria's life. He booted up the computer and checked out her files. He stumbled upon a journal. Perfect. 

__

Trent and I went to Dega Street to try to find Jane a birthday present. He was stumped. I know that I'm getting her art supplies. I'm practical; I know that she wants them, so that's what I'm getting her. He really wanted to do something special for her, which is sweet, but he has no idea what. I suggested that he write her a song. He seemed to think that this was a brilliant idea. Actually I got it from The Simpsons. You know, the episode where Homer gets committed and runs into Michael Jackson. I hope she appreciates it. He poured his heart into it.

Made it through another day at school. Jane came over to get away from her family. It's apparently feast or famine at Casa Lane. It's usually only the two of them, but suddenly all the siblings and the parents have shown up. I don't even think they've missed her. 

What does he see in her? Sure she's got a figure, and she seems wild, if you know what I mean. Maybe they do belong together. He could never be interested in me. I'm so plain, and boring. 

Her diary was full of Trent. _She liked him_, he smiled, _how cute_. They liked each other. He pressed on. He found another file. This one was full of short stories. He read a few of them. They were tongue in cheek adventure stories about Melody Powers. So Daria had an alter ego, someone confident, assured, sexy and smart. At least she knew what she wanted to be. He kept digging. Buried deep, under layers and layers he finally found the poetry. That's when he knew. 

At around noon, he figured it was safe to call the Lanes. He got the number off the caller id and rang the house. Apparently he woke them, but they arranged to meet a bit later in the afternoon. He checked their address out on the Internet, and walked over there. 

Jane seemed a bit bleary when she answered the door. "Hey, where'd you go last night?" She asked as Sam stood on the stoop. 

"Where did **_I_** go?" Sam responded. He was still a bit concerned that Jane would just go off with a guy, but apparently no harm had come to her.

"I guess righteous indignation would be inappropriate. Well, _HI_." Jane smiled spectacularly. 

Sam was confused. Then he realized that someone was behind him. Tom. They came into the house. Trent was coming down the stairs. 

"Hey Daria. Glad you're here." Trent waved at her, still a bit out of it.

"Trent, this is Tom, the guy I met last night." Jane said by way of introduction. 

"You guys were great last night." Tom said as he moved into the house. 

"Thanks. We're thinking of changing our name." Trent didn't really know how to take a compliment.

"So I've heard." Tom said with a smile, trying not to sound like a smart-ass.

"Daria, why don't you help me make some coffee. We can talk about the project." Trent started towards the kitchen. 

"Don't you think we ought to include Jane?" Sam asked.

"No, we can get some preliminary stuff out of the way. I could really use some coffee." Trent steered Daria into the kitchen. 

Trent was smooth. Not only was he giving Jane and Tom an opportunity to be together, but he got to be alone with Daria. The boy was not as dumb as he looked. 

"So Trent, we're doing a multi-media project, we need you to do the music." Sam said as Trent searched around the kitchen for the coffee. He had put a pan of water to boil on the stove, but he hadn't yet found the coffee. "It's going to be on the computer. It's due in two weeks." Sam got the impression that time wasn't a finite thing for Trent. 

Trent grunted a reply.

"I guess you aren't a morning…afternoon person." Sam said, trying to facilitate a conversation.

"The night holds the key." Trent said simply, standing on tiptoe to see if a sack of whole-wheat flour had morphed into a can of coffee. "Dammit, we're out of coffee."

"The key to what?" Sam asked, feeling like a straight man.

That stumped Trent. "I don't know, it's still early for me." 

"It's two o'clock in the afternoon." He waited for Trent to say something, all he got was a stare. "Okay then, about this project…" Sam started.

"Hey, shouldn't we wait for Janey?" Trent said, looking at the boiling water.

"That's what I said." Sam said in exasperation. How was this guy going to get a record contract? He couldn't even get his coffee made in the morning.

"I just thought they could use some time alone." Trent said. 

"_They_ could use some time alone?" Sam said, trying to catch Trent off guard.

"What do you mean?" Trent replied, finally looking straight into Daria's face.

"I think you know." Sam said.

"Daria?" Trent was surprised, was she coming on to him?

"Come on Trent, you're constantly hanging around, you drive me home, you want me to help pick out your sister's birthday present. I'm not blind." Sam was winging it. They might be 57% here for Trent, but he felt like he needed to do something for Daria too.

"Oh." Trent didn't have a reply. She knew. She had probably known all along. 

Just then Al popped in. "Hey, he cooks, that water looks good."

"Not now." Sam said in irritation. 

"Not now?" Trent parroted back. "Is it the age thing?"

"No, it's not that." Sam was grasping, he didn't want to ruin this for Daria. "I like you. I've liked you for a while, but we're doing something important here. I just know that if we work together, something really great is going to come from it."

"That's right! Ziggy ran some computations, and you're right, Daria is supposed to team up with Trent." Al said walking straight through Trent. "There's an 80% chance that if Trent and Daria write a song, that Trent gets a recording contract."

"So you think something great will come out of us partnering together?" Trent gave Daria a devastating smile. He could always charm her, now he knew why, she liked him back.

"Well, let's do this project first, and then we'll see what comes later." 

"Don't want to mix business with pleasure?" Trent said as the phone rang. He grabbed it, getting the phone and Sam off the hook. "Huh, oh, right. I'll be right there." He hung up the phone. "I forgot, we've got an audition, and I'm late. Can we talk about 'the project' later?" 

Sam rolled his eyes, was this guy serious about music? "Yes, fine, go to your audition."

"I'll call you later." Trent said as he headed out the door, humming a tune.

Sam found himself alone in the kitchen with his holographic friend. "You know what you need?" Sam asked as he turned off the burner under the pot of water. "You need an H on your forehead."

"Come on Sam, quit kidding around. Follow him out there." Al had already gone through the door. Sam could hear the Plymouth warming up in the driveway. 

Sam went out and got into the car with Trent. "I'm coming with you." He said simply.

Trent looked at Daria; it was as though he had never seen her before. "You are?"

"Yes, you need my help." She buckled up as Trent selected a radio station. They drove through Lawndale to a nondescript warehousy looking place. Just one of a million business parks in a thousand different suburbs all over America. Sam still had no idea exactly where in the United States he was. They got out of the car and walked into a makeshift studio. As they walked in, the band looked up at him. Jesse nodded at him in acknowledgement. There was a mixing board, and some guy dressed in black leaned up against the wall, surveying the scene.

"You know what, never mind. This isn't going to work." The arty looking dude said. 

Trent looked downcast at the floor. He had blown the opportunity for them. "Aw. I knew I should have bought an alarm clock." He started to take his guitar and leave. The rest of the band began muttering and cursing under their breath.

"Hey, wait a minute." Sam found himself addressing the guy. "You stood around here for two hours, waiting for Trent, and when he finally shows up, you just pack it in? Trent, set up over there with the rest of the band." Trent did as he was told.

"Who do you think you are?" The guy asked her.

"I'm Daria, who are you?" Sam responded. He used the intimidation stare that he had cadged from a Discovery Channel documentary on gorillas. 

"I'm the guy you are really pissing off." There was a beat. Sam hadn't backed off his stare. "Joe, call me Joe. I own this establishment. And they're nearly out of time. They only paid me for another thirty minutes." 

"How much will another hour cost?" Sam asked. He had run across Daria's pillowcase full of money in his inspection of her belongings. 

"Buck -twenty." Joe said shaking his head at the lost cause.

"Fine, I'll cover it. Now, what are these guys supposed to be doing?" Sam looked around; the band stared at Daria with a new respect. 

"Making a demo." Joe responded. 

"Okay then, let's light this candle." Sam sat back with Cameron at the mixing board. 

They warmed up a bit, and then they recorded two songs. It was enough for a demo. Al came in just in time to hear the first song, Ice-Box Woman.

"Sam, it says here that based upon this demo, that Mystic Spiral will get their recording contract." He looked at his hand held display, watching the data dance across the screen. 

Sam nodded as he listened to the chords. "So why haven't I leapt yet?" Sam wanted to move on, he figured that Daria could work out her relationship with Trent. He kindled the flame; it was up to her to build the fire. 

Al looked around. They were still in the studio. He hit the side of the device. It squawked. "We don't know yet." 

Sam looked at him balefully. "Why didn't I perfect this part of the project? Why is there always some weird detail that we over look. If I ever get back to New Mexico, I'm taking a wrench to this thing." 

"I'll get back with Gushy and see what he can turn up." Al said, bailing through the door back into the imaging chamber. 

"Right. Check's in the mail." Sam tried to think of what it might be that he needed to stick around for. Perhaps he could teach the bass player something about a rhythm track. He sighed loudly. 

Joe looked at Daria. "Yeah, I know what you mean, but this stuff is popular now, I think I can get them with an indy label."

"No doubt." Sam replied. 

"So, you manage these guys or what?" Joe asked. 

"Sort of." Sam answered, it seemed easier than trying to explain what was really going on.

"Kinda like herding cats isn't it? Dealing with musicians. Good thing you came along with some dough, I don't think these guys have enough for gas money." Joe's head slowly rocked with the beat. 

Nearly three hours later, they were done. They had two 'in the can.' The guys decided to stop off for some burgers on the way home. They all sat around the table at the diner, talking about their 'session.'

"That was wicked cool Trent. Now we can get a record deal." Max was high on adrenaline, as well as the two chocolate milkshakes he ordered.

"It's not that easy." Trent said, taking another bite of his burger. "You can thank Daria for bailing us out. If she hadn't put up the money, we'd have totally blown it." He thought for a minute. "I'd have totally blown it." 

"S'okay man. At least you made it, and we have the demo." Jesse patted Trent on the back. 

"It's not okay. Either I'm serious or I'm not. That was…" He struggled for the word.

"Unprofessional." Sam chimed in.

"Right. Unprofessional. If we do get a record deal, we're going to have to take this as seriously as a…" Again, Trent was at a loss. 

"Job." Sam provided the word he was looking for. Trent shuddered involuntarily. Trent stirred his coffee, and brooded, while the band chattered on excitedly about taking the next step in their careers.

In the car, on the way home, Trent seemed withdrawn, more so than usual. He dropped her off at her house, and drove home. It was early evening and the family was sitting in the living room eating pizza. 

"Oh Daria! There you are." Someone, clearly Daria's mother addressed him. "We saved you a few slices. Your father is taking a client to dinner, so we're on our own."  


"They piled on the cheese. Gross, it's all fatty and stuff. I'm eating some carrot sticks." A pretty redhead said, wrinkling up her nose in distaste.

"Quinn, don't be so dramatic. Just eat your pizza, an ounce of cheese won't hurt you." Daria's mother said to her younger daughter. 

"Yeah Quinn, it's actually good for you, the oils in the cheese are good for your skin." Sam said as he took a slice and bit into it. 

"They ARE?" Quinn narrowed her eyes at her sister. "Since when do you know about skin care?" 

Oops. He was busted. Daria didn't care about her looks. "Uh, I don't, I like pizza." He hoped that would be enough of a remark. The family interaction is usually where he messed up. They sat and ate pizza, with some sensational journalistic show on in the background. 

The phone rang and Daria's mother and sister both dove for it at the same time. "It's for me, Jeffy is coming by to pick me up later, he probably wants to know what I'm wearing, so he can coordinate with me. Hello? Oh, yes, she's here. Just a minute." She held the phone out to Daria. "It's Jane." 

"Daria, can you come over here? Trent has been acting really weird."  
  
"So? Is that unusual?" Sam asked, playing for time.

"Well, no, but he's not asleep, and he's not playing music, he's reading our economics textbook."

"Oh. I'll be right over." 

"Is it okay if I go to Jane's?" He asked Daria's mother. He was rewarded with a blank look. "I'll see you later." 

While he was walking, Al popped in. "Sam, I think we found out why you haven't leapt. It's something to do with Trent and Daria getting together."

"Al, are you telling me that two kids from the suburbs having a romance is some kind of cosmic issue?" Sam clomped along in the boots; the night breeze made him shiver.

"Well, as it was, before you changed things Daria had a few different boyfriends. She didn't hook up with Trent until much later in her life. That's the way it's supposed to be. If she and Trent get together now, he'll blow it with her, and they won't be together later." Al was having a hard time with the tenses. Shifting events in time will do that to a hologram. 

"So Daria isn't supposed to be with Trent?" Sam was processing the information. Thwarted crushes were common in teenagers; he should have considered that before he started trying to 'help' Daria.

"No, not for another ten years. Ziggy says that if they get together now, it ruins everything." Al showed Sam the hand-held display. 

Sam sighed. "Oh boy. Al, what should I do? Trent likes Daria, and I sort of responded to that. She really likes him too."

Al shook his head. "I don't know, I've been married four times, remember?" 

"Thanks for nothing." Sam responded. 

"Anytime." Al said as he went through the door of the imaging chamber, leaving Sam to figure it out. 

When he arrived at the Lane's house, Jane met him on the front stoop. "He's really bumming about something. He won't talk to me. What the hell happened today?"

"He and Mystik Spiral made a demo tape. It's pretty good actually."

"You were THERE?" Jane asked incredulously. "Since when do you hang out with Trent?"

"Since we decided to depend on him to help us with our homework. Jane, why is it that your brother can't focus on anything? Why can't he even honor a simple commitment?" Sam gazed intently at Jane. This guy was a major fuck-up, and there had to be a reason for it.

Jane shuffled her feet, an interesting move in army boots. "Why should he be any different than anyone else in the family?" It was the unasked question in their relationship, and she herself didn't really understand Trent, at least not that aspect of him. "Why don't you ask him?" She opened the door, and Sam walked into the house with her. "Trent! Daria's here to see you!" She called up the stairs. There was some thumping around, and then stereo started to blast. "I suggest that you go up alone. I might spook him."

"Great." Sam went upstairs and headed in the direction of Nirvana pounding through the door, he didn't bother to knock. "TRENT!" He screamed.

Trent looked up from the book. It _was_ Jane's economics text. He reached over to turn down the music. "Hey Daria."

"So what's the matter?" Sam asked, he could tell that Trent was troubled. He was in the same mood that he had been in since that afternoon. "You've got a demo tape, you're on your way to being a professional musician. Why are you so upset?"

Trent gulped. He wasn't very good at expressing his emotions. He had no problem with other people's emotions, but his own were foreign to him. He couldn't bear to look Daria in the face. "I'm letting everyone down." 

Sam had to handle this delicately. He decided that tough-love was the way to go. "Yes. You have been doing that. Why do you think that is?"

Trent brooded. He felt around on the floor for the glass of Kool-Aid that he left there…three days ago. Never mind. He was embarrassed. He knew that Daria liked him, he liked her back, but his flakiness was always going to be a barrier for them. "I don't know, I guess its part of the creative process." At least, that's what he told himself, it made him feel better, special. 

"Bullshit." Sam stated emphatically.

"Huh?" Trent had never heard Daria curse, and certainly never directed at him.

"Bullshit. Creativity may be ephemeral, but there's always solid work behind every successful artistic enterprise. I don't know what it is that your family does that lets them all wander and pursue their art, but I'll tell you something, it's not normal."

"It isn't?" This was news to Trent. Everyone in the family just seemed to follow their dream, no matter how abstract or bizarre. Penny in Costa Rica with that craft-stand. Wind with his houseboat and two alimony payments. Mom and Dad jaunting around the world throwing pots and taking pictures.

"No. Most artists have to struggle, not only at their art, but at making a living as well. Have you ever heard of a day-job?" Sam watched as Trent absorbed the information.

"Job?" Trent said it like a dirty word. It reminded Sam of Maynard G. Krebs. 

"Yes, job. Even the most talented musicians find it hard to support themselves on their art alone. What is it that you really want from your music, to be rich and famous or to create art?" Sam sat on the bed with Trent.

"Damn Daria, I've never thought about it. I just figured that Mystik Spiral would get a record deal, and then we'd be famous." Trent sat up, leaning against the bookcase headboard.

"Trent, only ten percent of bands with record deals ever become successful. Look, I think you might get a deal, but what if you only get regional success? What if you only have one or two records hit big enough to give you some pocket money? How many bands on Behind the Music made great music and then disappeared into oblivion, declaring bankruptcy? Think about it."

"Woah." Trent _was_ thinking about it. Where had he missed that part of it? "Damn, so what should I do?"

"Well, first of all, start treating this like a business. Start learning about the music business, so that if you do manage to have a successful record you don't end up like TLC wondering where the money went." Sam saw that he was getting through. "Oh yeah, you can start by getting us that music for our project. It's due in a couple of days." 

Trent considered it. "You're right, are you sure you didn't come up here just to nag me about your project?" He smiled at her. "Aren't we supposed to collaborate on that?" He inched closer to Sam.

Sam got up off the bed. "I don't know Trent, I think we might have to wait a few years for us to collaborate. You've got a lot to do right now, and I'm just trying to survive high school."

Trent was disappointed, but as usual, Daria was right. She always seemed to be able to see into the future, to understand exactly what he needed. "Okay Daria, we'll have it your way. But don't be surprised to see me on your doorstep some time in the next few years." 

Sam smiled, "I wouldn't miss it for the world. Now get to work on that music, we still have to upload it to our program." 

Trent saluted Daria as she walked out the door. Al was on the landing waiting for Sam. "Okay, great! Daria and Trent meet up again in ten years, they get married and have two kids. Mystik Spiral doesn't make it big, but they do make it big enough to walk away after a few years with enough money to live on. Jesse goes on to be a successful guitarist in other bands. Max becomes a massage therapist. Nicholas starts a landscaping business. Trent goes back to school and becomes…this can't be right." Al hit the side of his hand-held computer. 

"What?" Sam asked.

"A _PHARMACIST_?" Al stared at the display in disbelief. Sam laughed.

"What about Daria?" Sam still felt like she needed to get something out of this whole thing.

Al pressed a couple of buttons. "Ah, here it is. She goes to school in California, and becomes a high school English teacher. She inspires her students to follow their dreams, and to work hard for their achievements. Oh, get this, one of her students wins a Pulitzer Prize. Not bad." 

Sam waited for a second, and realized that he was still in the Lane house. "Al, I hate to ask, but why haven't I leapt yet?" Al looked at him blankly; hoping that Ziggy would relay the necessary information. Just then he heard the doorbell. Tom had come over to visit with Jane. Sam didn't relish a walk back to Daria's house, so he leaned over the banister, "Jane, can Tom drive me home?"

There was some discussion and Jane shouted back up, "Sure, no problem." And just like that a blue light shimmered and glowed, and Sam was transported to his next destination. 

Notes: Okay, so I brought it full circle. If you want to see how Trent and Daria hook up in the future, read Reunion. Thanks to Medea42 and CINCGREEN for the beta-read. 


End file.
